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How an embattled energy storage project in Acton, California, is threatening faster federal permits.

One hour north of Los Angeles, the small town of Acton is experiencing a battery energy storage buildout — and quickly becoming the must-watch frontline in the backlash against lithium-ion energy storage systems. The flashpoint: wildfires.
Like many parts of California, Acton has hot summers with heavy winds, putting it at elevated risk of the kind blaze that makes national headlines. Battery storage fires, while rare, are a unique threat, with relatively little data available about them to help regulators or the public understand the risk. People in Acton wondered: Would they really be safe if a wildfire engulfed a battery storage site, or if a battery failure sparked a new conflagration?
When L.A. County blessed the first battery energy storage system project in Acton last year, developers and local fire officials said they were doing everything in their power to ensure the batteries would meet safety standards. Residents were far from convinced.
“This will turn our community into industrial hell and it’ll erase us from the face of the Earth,” Jacqueline Ayer, a member of Acton’s town council, told me. Ayer is helping lead the local fight against the projects.
I’ve now spent more than a month researching the fight in Acton. In the process, I’ve learned how much — or little — we know about when battery energy storage and wildfires mix. We’ll get to that later in this story. To be honest, debunking battery fire risk wasn’t why I spent a month on Acton. It was what happened when the fears took hold.
Feeling they’d been failed by both the regulatory approval process and the court system, the Acton project’s opponents turned to their representative in Washington, House Republican Mike Garcia. Though Garcia can’t do anything to stop this particular project, he can severely hinder future ones: As Heatmap can exclusively report, after lobbying from Acton, Garcia inserted language into the annual funding bill for the Department of Energy that would block it from implementing a new rule designed to expedite permits for federally funded battery projects.
“What we’re hoping is that [with Garcia] being at the federal level, he’ll shed some light to the people at the top,” said Ruthie Brock of the activist group Acton Takes Action, “because if the top becomes informed, it’ll trickle down to local governments.”
This is why the Acton fight is so important — it demonstrates the risk of failing to obtain community buy-in, which can ricochet in ways no one intended. The political and media environments are quick to sensationalize the downsides of renewable energy, creating a tinderbox atmosphere in which small local fights can quickly become national ones.
On some level, a fight over battery fires going national was inevitable. Across the country, from New York to Washington state, communities are revolting against battery energy storage sites coming to their backyards. Often, those opposed cite the feared threat of fires or explosions.
Fires in battery energy storage systems, a.k.a. BESS, are quite rare. According to what data is available, the number of fires has stayed relatively flat even as deployment has grown drastically. There were fewer than 10 failure events in the U.S. in 2023, and there have been even fewer so far this year.
But when a fire does happen, experts say it can be quite difficult to put out. In some cases, there’s nothing a community can do other than let the blaze run.
“There’s a lack of consensus. There’s a lot of experts out there providing guidance, and that’s something we’re trying to work on with training throughout the country,” Victoria Hutchinson, an engineer with the Fire Protection Research Foundation, told me. “[It’ll] instill some fear in the meantime we figure out the best approach.”
Information on BESS and wildfires is even less available. Guillermo Rein, a professor of fire science and the editor-in-chief of the journal Fire Technology, told me the matter has not really been studied.
“When I say [BESS are] new, I mean really new,” Rein said. “We hardly know how it works when it gets [on] fire and we don’t have many technologies that are proven to work. We have technologies that we wish will work, but proven technologies that work are very rare. That means we have a new hazard we are struggling to understand and in the meantime, we don’t know how to protect against it.”
Los Angeles County approved Acton’s first battery storage system — Humidor, a 300 megawatt project by Hecate Energy — last summer through an expedited “ministerial” process, the local equivalent of a “categorical exclusion” under the National Environmental Policy Act. Ministerial reviews and categorical exclusions are used by regulators to skip the drawn out process of an environmental review because they can reasonably predict a lack of significant impact. Joseph Horvath, a spokesperson for L.A. County Planning, gave me a statement defending the approval and stating BESS projects must meet all local and state zoning and fire codes to receive a ministerial approval.
California had identified the Acton community back in 2021 as a potential site for energy storage to protect against future power shut offs. Acton made sense because it’s close to the SoCal Edison Vincent substation, making it well positioned to connect to the grid. There was also a real sense of urgency: To achieve its goal of 100% carbon-free electricity by 2045, the state estimates it will need to install a projected 52,000 megawatts or more of battery storage. Humidor is the first of what appears to be multiple projects being planned for the area, including two more Hecate facilities according to materials on the company’s website.
Convinced that a battery boom could mix poorly with extreme fire risk, and that the county moved far too fast to approve Humidor, Acton residents sued. The county, they argued, had little reason to conclude the facility would have an insignificant impact on the environment — so few BESS projects have been approved that the county used the standards from a different kind of project — an electrical substation — to draw that conclusion. L.A. County Planning told me they chose this comparison for reasons including the “purpose of BESS and its connection to the larger network for distributive purposes.”
Rein told me that at least when it comes to the fire risk, this isn’t an accurate comparison, and that there’s not actually enough data to claim such a facility would have an insignificant impact. “I would put great efforts into making sure this facility is safe,” he said. “They can’t just say, I met the regulation, I did enough. Because it’s a new hazard.”
Many of those in Acton opposed to the project believe the approval was rushed, and claim that little information was made available to the public as it was going through the county’s process. Furious residents have told county planners that the Acton town council was not notified in advance that an approval was on its way. They testified before the county board of supervisors that Hecate held only a single public meeting to discuss what it intended to build, with little notice given to potentially concerned citizens.
In my experience as a journalist reporting on large energy projects with serious community impacts, transparency is key to getting local buy-in to build a project. For years I covered the mining industry, where innumerable decades of toxic waste spills and labor scandals have forced companies to really innovate and spend serious dough on obtaining “social license to operate,” a term developers and investors use to describe acceptance to a company’s business practices.
This, of course, differs from the YIMBY school of thought that companies and governments should eschew frustrated municipalities to pursue the overriding net good of climate action. There are certainly merits to this argument, especially when it comes to communities that won’t take yes for an answer, and we’ll be exploring case studies supporting that view in future editions of The Fight.
I’m on the fence about whether Acton is one of those cases, though. Ayer, an environmental engineer by trade, told me she supports decarbonization and wants to see climate action happen. She just wants to feel assured the technology is safe.
If it wasn’t a lithium-ion battery storage facility “I would feel comfortable,” she said. “We will shoulder some of the weight. But it isn’t right that we shoulder all of the weight.”
When I tried to talk to Hecate about Acton’s wildfire concerns and how the company had engaged with the community, a company spokesperson, Bobby Howard, declined to make anyone available for an interview citing “ongoing litigation related to the subject.” Howard provided a factbook that said only that Humidor would “meet or exceed” local and state fire codes — without specifying which codes — and detailed some of the outreach the company did, including the public meeting as well as mailers to “thousands of individuals throughout the greater Los Angeles area, including civically engaged individuals throughout Acton.”
Howard declined to answer questions requesting more information about the company’s public outreach and wildfire planning. He did tell the Los Angeles Times earlier this year that Humidor would have “seismic bracing, safety zones around the perimeter, substantial setbacks from parcel boundaries, gravel breaks and a masonry wall around the facility.”
Stanford University senior research scholar and legal energy expert Michael Wara explained to me that in cases like these, having buy-in from the community is important to avoiding litigation and social blowback. “That is losing,” Wara said. “You have not served your client if you end up in litigation.”
“Having a process by which people are informed about a project and have an opportunity to provide input is important for buy-in for all kinds of projects related to the energy transition if you want to build in a democratic society,” he said. “Is it really the fire risk the community is concerned about?”
When it comes to the Acton battery fight, it’s the fears of fire that scare me the most, not the fire itself.
I sought reasons to be optimistic about putting battery energy storage in areas like Acton that are prone to wildfire because, well, California is essentially one big fire risk zone. James Campbell, a wildfire policy expert at the Federation of American Scientists, told me that battery energy storage decreases net wildfire risk compared to gas storage tanks and pipelines. “If we consider the whole-climate trade-offs, battery systems are much safer,” he said.
On its end, Hecate claimed in a letter to the L.A. County Board of Supervisors that a BESS fire has never traveled off-site, and that because the fires are fueled by flammable gasses, there is minimal risk of embers traveling elsewhere and igniting grass or bushes. The company pointed me to this letter when I reached out for comment.
“Nothing about fire risk mitigation is about certainty. It’s more, risk mitigation and fire is kind of like wearing a seatbelt,” Wara told me. “If you’re going 120 miles an hour down the highway and you get in a high-speed collision, your seatbelt will not save you. [But] there’s rapid advances in how these systems work.”
In the end, he added, meeting California’s carbon emissions targets will “probably mean building somewhere that there is non-trivial wildfire risk.”
What’s happening to offshore wind should be a cautionary tale for developers considering whether sinking time and money into community relations is really worth it: Last year, coastal fishermen and beach town mayors in New Jersey joined forces with fossil fuel funding and right-wing agitators to foment a conspiracy-infused campaign against offshore wind that has truly rattled the future of the industry.
Part of that offshore wind backlash grew out of New Jersey Republicans in Congress using the pulpit of their offices and filing amendments to legislation. As Garcia takes up Acton’s cause, I do wonder whether battery energy storage might be next. November’s election makes it less likely his language hindering expedited approvals for BESS projects will make it into the final funding bill, and Garcia’s office did not respond to requests to discuss its prospects.
But regardless, it’s an ember that could become a fire of its own.
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Microsoft says it bought nearly 3,500 acres of land near Cheyenne from the family of Wyoming Senator Cynthia Lummis.
The family of one of Congress’ biggest Big Tech boosters has reportedly sold thousands of acres of land to Microsoft for a new data center.
Late Monday night, the city council in Cheyenne, Wyoming approved a measure necessary for Microsoft to connect a new data center campus to city services, including water access. The council’s action annexes almost 3,500 acres that was owned by relatives of the state’s junior senator, Cynthia Lummis. A Microsoft representative testified to the council that the company acquired the land on June 26.
Honestly, it’s a surprise that the land annexation — reportedly one of the largest single additions of land to the city’s control in its history — was even approved. Just last week I confirmed local reports that officials had traced rare bacteria in the city’s municipal wastewater system to another data center project overseen by a subcontractor for Meta. This incident led the city to ban data center developers indefinitely from disposing wastewater from closed-loop cooling systems into the municipal wastewater system.
The land annexation was approved in the wee hours of the night by a 7-3 vote, after a nearly eight-hour marathon session of the city council that also included other much smaller land swaps for the Microsoft project. The state representative for the area where the property sits, Republican Ann Lucas, testified against the measure. Many Cheyenne residents who spoke in opposition to the project referenced the Meta-linked incident, and a handful of neighbors of the future data center complex got together to testify against it.
“I oppose this annexation, but I understand that Senator Lummis has a right to request it, just like she did for the land that my house is on,” testified Peggy Gates, who lives in a residential community called Sweetgrass that is adjacent to the property. “My sincere question to the city council is, why is it necessary for this annexation and rezoning vote to be completed tonight?”
Patrick Collins, Cheyenne’s mayor, told her the city faced a choice: either move forward with an annexation that would put the property under its control and let it connect to municipal services, or Microsoft would have to go its own way under solely county control.
“It’s a good question,” Collins replied from the dais. “I would guess if we postponed it for three months, people would say we should postpone it longer. At some point we just have to vote and say yes or no and give the people who want to develop that piece of property clearer direction of whether they can be in the city or not in the city. They already own the land. They’re either going to do it in the city or outside the city. We’re trying to give them direction as to how they should make their plan. Should they drill [water] wells or use city water and sewer?”
How much money the Lummis family may make from the data center land deal has not yet been made public, nor have the ways in which the senator or her family could profit. The family has reportedly held much of this land going back to the 1940s, and it now sits in the name of companies such as Arp and Hammond Hardware, Old Horse Pasture Inc., and Lummis Livestock Company LLC.
As far as I can tell, this is the first major data center deal ever involving a sitting member of the U.S. Congress. Lummis is also the “crypto queen” of the Senate, known as a policy thought leader in all things technology, artificial intelligence, and the digitization of human existence. She’s recently waded into the data center debate: In mid-June, after Microsoft disclosed its intent to acquire the Lummis properties, the senator introduced a bill requiring the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission to quickly craft new regulations making it easier for data centers using 100 megawatts or more to connect to the existing electrical grid.
Lummis announced in December that she will not be seeking re-election. Her office did not respond to requests for comment.
Microsoft told me in a statement that the senator’s connection to this land played no role in selecting this site for their project: “This expansion reflects our continued long-term investment in Cheyenne and builds on more than a decade of growth in the region. Senator Lummis’ political standing had nothing to do with our decision to continue growing in Cheyenne,” the company said.
Water pollution in Wyoming has big implications for the future of data center development.
Did a Meta data center introduce a rare, dangerous bacteria into the sewers system of Wyoming’s capitol city? It’s an environmental pollution mystery with an answer that could decide the future of American AI infrastructure development.
Our drama begins in Cheyenne, Wyoming, where the city’s board of public utilities just wrapped up a lengthy investigation into the presence of Cupriavidus gilardii, a potentially lethal bacteria resistant to heavy metals, in the city’s wastewater treatment systems. Apparently, in February, board staff detected the contamination and shut off public access to the city’s water reuse system, a supply of treated non-potable water fed with treated wastewater and used for lawns, athletic fields, and other green spaces. Officials were worried that spraying this water could release into the environment a bacteria found to cause fatal health outcomes in immunocompromised or elderly people who are infected by it.
The board then identified a culprit – Goat Systems LLC, a Delaware-registered firm without a website Meta tasked with overseeing its large $800 million hyperscale project in Cheyenne dubbed Project Cosmo. Goat Systems lost its wastewater disposal permit. The board plans to also fine Goat Systems for violating city code “along with additional fees for our remediation efforts,” board public affairs coordinator Erin Lamb told me in an email. (The only person publicly affiliated with Goat Systems is Pamela Gregorski, an employee for a company that specializes in creating LLCs. Gregorski, who is linked to other LLCs handling Meta projects across the country, did not reply to requests for comment.)
In public comments and statements to me, the board linked the bacteria to water used to flush the Meta data center’s closed-loop cooling system so debris could be removed before the facility was operational. “We were able to connect the Meta data center campus to this through sampling their site,” Lamb said.
This finding led Cheyenne to also indefinitely ban data center projects in the city from ever disposing of “fill-and-flush water” in the sewer system again.
Meta has not denied contamination was found by the city, but says repeated sampling at its project site failed to come up with any evidence confirming they were the source. One can imagine a scenario where the data center and its design played no role in this bacteria showing up, or that city officials erroneously tagged the tech company with responsibility at a time when they’re dealing with political troubles already.
But what is happening in Cheyenne, first reported last week by Wyoming local press, will have consequences for the future of AI infrastructure whether or not Meta was actually even responsible. Right now, all over the country, tech companies are failing to get permits for their data centers because people are worried about water use. These closed-loop data center designs are supposed to address those concerns, letting large hyperscalers contain, cycle, and reuse the water they use for months or even years. A story like this gaining traction in public discourse around data centers will inevitably damage the sector’s public image unless rectified – and fast.
Cheyenne’s claims about the Meta data center being responsible for the bacteria have already metastasized on social media, disseminated through channels often cited by data center opponents on the ground elsewhere in the country. “REPORT: ‘RARE’ BACTERIA DISCHARGED INTO WYOMING WATERSHED LINKED TO DATA CENTER,” reads one post by a Facebook user Izzy Bella that has been shared more than 2,600 times. “Think of this the next time you hear blatant greenwashed lies like ‘closed loop cooling.” This post has been shared by major anti-data center groups on Facebook, including Pennsylvania Data Center Resistance, a social media page for organizing against projects in the Keystone State.
Going solely off what happened in Wyoming, some in the state are concerned the process of cleaning these loops before opening a data center can produce some nasty byproducts. Dr. Jonathan Brand, a civil engineering professor at University of Wyoming, has been studying the data center buildout in Wyoming for years, watching what’s happened in Cheyenne closely, and like me has way more questions than answers.
Usually, Brand said, a company using water in metal-intensive industrial applications – think a metal plating facility – has to test that fluid before it’s dumped into a municipal sewer system. The chain of events spelled out by the board left him “guessing that didn’t happen here,” and he’s worried the bacteria formed within whatever petri dish-like environment was created inside the network of looping pipes before it was flushed.
“The bacterium was the canary they saw, but you could have a lot of residual metals, which is not something we normally test for at a wastewater plant,” he said. “What else was in that discharge? Nobody else has let us know that and they’re probably not going to.”
City officials claim the water was tested before it entered the sewer and was missed, but there’s a trust deficit between locals and the government on what happened. Little of this information was public until a few weeks ago. Cheyenne residents first learned trouble was afoot on June 26, when the board posted a press release “reminding all residential, commercial, and industrial customers that the discharge of hazardous substances into the sanitary sewer system is strictly prohibited.” Nothing was included about data centers at all; all the board said was that the bacteria was dumped by “an industrial user within the system.”
Then Exie Brown, a Cheyenne resident and GOP candidate for state house, blasted a press release out on social media declaring “a credible source with knowledge of the [board] investigation and sampling” told him the “industrial user” was a data center.
I reached out to Brown asking how he learned about this. His answers were cryptic. “I was given a piece of paper with that name of a bacteria on it,” he told me over the phone, declining to name the “very credible source” who told him about the contamination. “That it was released into our waste water system, that it came from a data center, that it was Meta, that they found out in February, and I needed to check into this.” When I asked why the piece of paper, he replied: “Because they [the source] wanted to keep this quiet. Off the phones and stuff.”
City officials deny any malintentions behind the delay and claim they’re learning about all of this at the same pace as the average resident. “We learned here a week or so ago,” Cheyenne mayor Patrick Collins told me in an interview. He added this wouldn’t have stirred as much interest “had it been something else,” referencing the fact it was from a data center.
“As I understand it, the contractor that was building the site was flushing out a closed-loop cooling system, and when they tested the water everything seemed to be fine, but when it was released into our system, bacteria had grown and was released into our wastewater treatment,” Collins said. “It just happened to be a data center. It’s an unfortunate and highly regrettable situation.”
The mayor acknowledged this contamination will make it “a little tougher” to argue for more data centers in the city. There are currently 10 operational data centers in Cheyenne and surrounding Laramie County, according to estimates from pro-business group Cheyenne LEADS, which has said five projects are under construction – including the Meta facility – and at least nine others are “in various stages of planning or due diligence.”
On Monday, the Cheyenne city council will vote on whether to annex land owned by various nearby property owners for more data center deals, including parcels owned by the family of U.S. Senator Cynthia Lummis. Before this event, Cheyenne was incredibly resistant to the anti-data center backlash, handily rejecting proposals to pause development.
Collins thinks Cheyenne will still be open to the tech sector. But the bacteria changed things. “I recognize there’s going to be challenges as we move forward. It’s something we’re going to have to look into. This was a regrettable situation that happened.”
We will see more transparency soon from the Cheyenne city government about the contamination. The board tells me it’s planning a press conference next week where Lamb told me “more information will be made available.”
Francis Brennan, a public affairs manager in the company’s strategic response division, provided me with a statement from an unnamed “Meta spokesperson” claiming that Fortis – the construction company hired by Meta and Goat Systems LLC – was directly handling water disposal on site. After the board “shared that it found a substance in the city’s wastewater” the construction company “began hauling it offsite.” Meta claimed Fortis has not been able to corroborate the presence of this bacteria in comparable water samples.
“Meta is committed to being a good neighbor in Cheyenne, including through the protection of local water resources, and will continue encouraging collaboration between Fortis and the board until this situation is revoked,” the statement read. Meta declined to answer follow-up questions..
Fortis confirmed they were responsible for dumping water on site when the contamination was discovered. They stated they’ve been unable to confirm the presence of the bacteria. In a statement provided to me, the company said: “Immediately upon learning of the issue, we stopped discharging water into the city’s wastewater system. We have since engaged in a thorough investigation that has included ongoing repeat testing by independent environmental specialists and have found no trace of the substance.”
A conversation with Ross Marchard of the Taxpayers Protection Alliance
This week’s conversation is with Ross Marchard, executive director for the Taxpayers Protection Alliance, a center-right advocacy group that focuses on what it sees are onerous policies potentially hindering responsible collection and use of tax dollars. TPA’s position on AI clearly skews pro-free market, as they’ve recently defended Anthropic from Trump administration attacks. TPA also recently took on the mantle of defending data centers from noise complaints, publishing a paper on Tuesday “debunking myths about data centers being excessively noisy.” The paper references various analyses of data centers by state legislators and local regulators to argue that claims the sector is generally noisy are false.
I asked TPA’s executive director to chat with me about why and how the organization will try to quell these fears. The conversation was really interesting so I decided to share it with you in full, sans light editing for clarity and consistency.
What prompted you to write this report?
Obviously, data center projects have been getting so much media attention. With that attention there’s an outsized share of misinformation in coverage of these data center projects, and politicians have irresponsibly spread this misinformation to try and enact moratoria and heavy-handed restrictions on these projects
TPA wanted to get the truth out. Make sure local residents living alongside these data centers have access to all the information they need. Make sure this misinformation is countered.
Before we get into the noise aspect, how is this focusing on “taxpayer protection”?
Sure, well, great case in point is Loudon County. They’ve embraced data centers and look what’s happened, they take in a billion dollars a year in revenue from these data centers and it’s allowed them to lower property taxes. You see a wider pattern across communities. They rake in a tremendous amount of tax revenue and increasingly common well-paying jobs, six-figure blue collar jobs that are a direct result of allowing data centers into communities.
I know you’re based in D.C., near Loudon County. I went to a data center in Sterling, Virginia, in that county, and it was especially noisy. Sort of a worst case scenario on that. Your report talks about misinformation around noise and data center – where is the misinformation happening on this issue?
We saw a recent court case out of New Jersey that alleges data centers generally are as loud as helicopters. Look, anything is possible for a particular project. But what we can say based on our analysis of the data, studies and sound impact assessments, and analyses by state and local governments is that this isn’t the case for the vast majority of data centers.
No use of land is going to be sound-free. I live right on Georgia Avenue in Washington, D.C., so I know noise. But everything we analyzed showed data centers and energy generation on site are going to make some noise but not enough to be harmful to human health. Often it’s no louder than the typical conversation between two people.
Speaking of Loudon County, though, I can point to an example of a project I myself visited that was I’m sure welcomed at first on tax revenue grounds. Now people seem to regret that decision.
As someone trying to address those who are concerned, is it helpful for you to really just call this concern rooted in misinformation? Is this really going to be potent when projects like the one in Sterling exist?
First and foremost, it’s very important to listen to people and their concerns. If folks are living alongside a data center and say they’re hearing loud noises, that warrants investigation. But it’s also important to look at the full array of evidence and we’ve done that. So far, it does not appear to be the case based on the overwhelming amount of evidence that is publicly available that data centers use a lot of water, use inordinate amounts of electricity, or are loud in a way that disrupts human health.
What do you think the policy solutions are to address these noise concerns? How do you listen to people, without going into overgeneralization, as you put it?
People tend to point out the loudest data centers are the ones with on site energy generation. If you ask the operators of data centers and the companies building data centers, they’ll tell you more often than not the reason they’re putting generation on site because the utility permitting process takes far too long. That’s the result not necessarily of utility regulations but state regulations foisted upon utilities. So you have to look at everything from state regulation to grid operation regulation. If you make the process easier for data centers to get hooked up to the grid, you’ll see less on site energy generation, and a lot of the noise complaints will go away.
So from your standpoint, a solution to the noise complaint is that it should be easier to hook up to the grid?
Yes. If you allow data centers to get hooked up to the grid, you’ll see fewer diesel generators and that’ll mean fewer noise complaints.
Now, I want to be clear, the vast majority of data centers with noise complaints – those are usually because of on-site energy generation – are not unduly noisy. If you want to cut down on those complaints, what makes the most sense is to make it easier for data centers to hook up.
Fun question to close: what was the last song you listened to?
“Yellow” by Coldplay.
Are you listening to “Yellow” while you’re writing about data centers?
I listen to the song sometimes when I’m writing about data centers. It’s also a very good somber reflection song, which is a pretty common sentiment amongst millennials.